Last week, we were asked to write a great sentence and post it on Chuck Wendig's site. There were over 200 choices to pick from! Very cool... so much choice! I found one I loved: 'All I got for my 19th birthday was pregnant and a criminal record' by Russell Appelt. And here's what I did with your sentence Russell. :D
“I love you, Celie.” Robert whispered softly
in my ear, his strokes of his hands up and down my body made me shiver. It was
the first time he had said the ‘L’ word to me; and I loved it that he had –
finally.
I linked my hands around his neck as he
gently moved between my legs, kissed my neck, made me want him in me as much as
he wanted me, “Yes. Please.”
Moving back, he paused, staring into my
eyes, smiling that wicked little grin he only saved for me and nobody else, and
leaned down kissing me again.
I loved it that we had morning sex – Robert
and me – because it was the way he saved that time for me; and me alone. We enjoyed each other totally and never
looked at the clock to see how long it took for us to have a good old romp in
the hay… according to us, we were the only two in existence and the rest of the
world vanished. And most times, I’d be
giddy all day just from that morning sex until he arrived home, where I’d
nearly attack him when he walked through the door.
Our house mates thought it was sweet and
lovely to start with, but it got old very quickly. After all, when two people are getting it on
in the next room and your sex life isn’t as great as theirs, you’re constantly
wondering what the hell is wrong with you, right? We didn’t mean to rub it into their faces,
but really, we just loved each other completely.
One afternoon, Robert was late in arriving
home. He had texted me and explained he
was asked to stay back to help with something at the office – he did work with
managers, so I didn’t worry – and so I got in and watched a bit of television and
did my own thing for the night; for once.
Turning in at around 10pm, I wondered where he was. But I left the front light on for him.
The doorbell woke me the next morning at
around 5am. Pulling on my Summer brunch
coat, I found some flip flops and shuffled out to the front door, unlocked it a
little and pulled it open enough to talk through the chain. It was police, as they showed their ID and I
closed the door and took the chain off its catch.
“How can I help you?” I asked, “It’s kinda
early to door-knocking for you guys, isn’t it?”
“Yes it is.
But there’s been a body found in your neighbourhood, miss.” One cop
said. He pulled out an evidence bag and
showed me Robert’s office ID, “Do you know this man?”
My stomach dropped as I muttered, “Yes.”
“How do you know him?”
“He’s my boyfriend.” I whispered, then
cleared my throat, “What happened to him?”
“We’re trying to figure that out.”
“Listen, I gotta get changed, do you mind
waiting until I do, so I can come with you to identify him?”
The two nodded, and one walked inside, “Sure.”
I rushed into the bedroom, closed the door
and looked for something to wear. As I
rummaged through the wash basket, I found a pair of jeans – which weren’t mine –
clogged with blood. I wondered what the hell
happened? Searching further, I found a
matching blood-clogged t-shirt and sweater.
Exactly what happened last night?
I dropped them into the basket, closed the lid and put on clean clothes
from the wardrobe.
At the station, they sat me down and asked
me where I was, who I was, how I knew Robert and our living arrangements. He also asked me if I knew about his wife.
“Wife?” I frowned, “Robert doesn’t have a
wife.”
The cop placed on the table a wedding ring
in an evidence bag. I looked at it and found
engraved on the inside of it: ‘Two souls intertwined forever’
“This was on his person, on his hand.” The cop
said watching me carefully. Somebody tapped
at the mirror, and the cop glanced over, excused himself and left the room for
a moment. He returned before I knew it
with two new evidence bags filled with the clothes I had found, “Why didn’t you
tell us about these?”
“Because… I don’t know how they came to be
in my house.” I said, “And if I said something, you would have arrested me under
suspicion.”
“You’re right.” He nodded, “But they were in
your house, and you live alone.”
“No, I don’t.” I shook my head, “We – I have
house mates.”
He sat back, “You live in a two bedroom house
and your name is the only one on the lease.
The real estate has never seen anyone else live there but you.” He rose,
“Please wait here.” Leaving again, he closed and locked the door.
I couldn’t move, as they had cuffed me to
the table… yep, I was in the shit alright.
The door opened again. My parents were standing there. Mum started to cry and turned away muttering,
“It always starts on this particular birthday… and I bet, oh god, I bet she’s
pregnant too.” She couldn’t look at me as she walked out.
Dad walked in, “Celie, it’s your 19th
birthday today.”
“Why don’t I remember what I did last night?”
He moved to take my hands, but hesitated, “Because
you’ve blocked it out. You found out
Robert lied to you about his marital status.” He paused, “Your house mates were
the first signs of schizophrenia because you live alone, sweetheart, and you
need help badly.”
“But I love Robert.”
“And your jealousy killed him.” He looked
down, “This won’t be taken to court.”
“Why?”
“Because they found his wife in the second
bedroom… he’s been looking for her for weeks.” He said. As Dad looked to the table, the door opened
and a doctor walked in with two orderlies, “Please let us help you.”
All I got for my 19th birthday
was pregnant and a criminal record.
